


Step by Step

by kronette



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: M/M, Pre Season/Series 1, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:31:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronette/pseuds/kronette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes a lot of little things, but Lister eventually comes to the conclusion that his roommate is seeing someone, and he's determined to find out who. His search leads him to another conclusion - Rimmer's not half-bad looking when he's not frowning and putting Lister on report.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Step by Step

Lister nearly slipped on the scrap of paper on the floor of their quarters. Grumbling under his breath, he picked it up and saw it was an envelope addressed to 'Arnold Rimmer'. Lips curving in an amused grin, he carelessly flung the envelope toward Rimmer's bunk. He had to change for his date with Simmons, who he'd chatted up two nights ago at the bar on H deck.

As he was sniffing his shirts to find a clean one, he absently noted that Rimmer wasn't in their quarters at half past nine on a work night. Bit unusual, that. He let the thought go as he located a shirt, pulled it on and checked himself out in the mirror. "Looking good, charmer," he said, giving his reflection a wink.

=-=-=-=-=

Lister looked up from the comic book he was reading, checked the time and cursed. He was late for the poker game with the rest of Zed shift. As he started out the door, he turned to look back at Rimmer, sat at his table with that smegging Astro-nav book. He shouldn't feel sorry for the smeghead, but Rimmer had few friends and rarely went out. Knowing the answer, he made the gesture anyway: "Rimmer, why don't you come with? Me and the guys are playing poker tonight."

His roommate shook his head, not bothering to look up from the book. "No, thank you, Lister. I have a proper work ethic that doesn't involve gambling away my life savings."

With a shrug, Lister turned and promptly forgot all about Rimmer, focusing on winning back his money from Chen. Close to dawn, Lister returned to his quarters, yawning hugely. He accidentally kicked a chair, causing a horrendous screech as it scraped across the floor. He froze, expecting Rimmer to wake up and start shouting at him. When the room remained eerily silent, he peered into Rimmer's bunk. It was mussed as if he'd slept in it, but Rimmer wasn't there. He listened for sounds from the bathroom; nothing. Yawning again, he decided he'd gotten lucky, climbed into bed and dropped off to sleep.

When he fell out of bed the next morning, Rimmer's bunk was hospital corners perfect, but Rimmer himself seemed a bit worse for wear. 

"Why do you look like death warmed over, eh?" he poked Rimmer in the shoulder teasingly. "Where was you last night? I came in and you wasn't in bed."

"Are you spying on me?" Rimmer snapped, fixing him with a glare.

Lister put his hands up to placate his roommate. "Hey, man, I was just making conversation. I don't care what you do; I'm not your mum."

Rimmer's glare dialed down to mere annoyance. "See that you don't."

Lister rolled his eyes and started getting ready for his shift. He knew he was on report already, seeing as Rimmer was his supervisor. 'Reporting for duty still inebriated' had been listed in his file more times than a Mimasian hooker spread her legs.

It didn't occur to him until he was in bed later that night, that he hadn't gotten called to Hollister's office. Rimmer hadn't reported him. He stayed awake a bit longer, trying to figure out what that meant.

=-=-=-=

Because of Rimmer's warning to not spy on him, Lister spent the next few days paying close attention to his roommate. Rimmer had a spring to his step that had nothing to do with Morris dancing. His face nearly cracked from the small smiles he'd break into randomly throughout their shift.  Lister had even caught him daydreaming – _daydreaming_ – instead of repairing vending machine 57.

In addition to the unnatural behavior, Rimmer had gotten three more notes. Lister tore through Rimmer's things until he located the stash. Six in all, tied with a blue ribbon. As he held Rimmer's private letters, guilt began to gnaw at his gut. What was he doing, going through Rimmer's things? Sure, he'd done it before, but that was for a laugh. This was something different. It was like a mission; he _needed_ to know what was going on with his roommate. Rimmer should act like Rimmer, not like a normal person.

Stamping down on his guilt, he carefully untied the neat bow on the envelopes. Starting at the bottom one, assuming it was the first, he removed the single card with a frown. _'Dinner at mine…7 sharp! – J_ ' was scribbled on the JMC generic stationery. Who was J? When did Rimmer start dating? How the smeg did Rimmer keep this a secret?  And most important of all: who would find Arnold Rimmer _attractive_?

Burning with curiosity now, he opened the remaining envelopes. More invitations to dinner, two for lunch, and one thank you note that nearly had him blushing: _The things you can do with your fingers should be illegal. Thank smeg they aren't! Until next time_. It wasn't signed, but it was in the same handwriting as the others.

Well, if that didn't seal the deal that Rimmer had a girl, nothing did. He put the cards back in their envelopes, retied the bow, and re-hid the stack underneath Rimmer's Sunday underwear. Now how to go about getting Rimmer to admit it.

=-=-=-=

Rimmer's ire could be felt three levels away from their quarters. "You've been in my things again, David Lister!" Rimmer yelled, waving the little packet of notes in his face.

"I haven't!" Lister denied hotly, but he couldn't look Rimmer in the eye. He'd been careful to put them back in the same order and in the same envelopes. How the smeg had Rimmer known?

The stack was waved beneath his nose again, flashes of blue catching Lister's eye. "This is not how I tied the ribbon, Lister," Rimmer informed him. "You read my letters! Have you no respect for my privacy? No decency whatsoever?"

Lister felt his stomach churn with guilt. "Why are you keeping them such a secret?" he countered to deflect feeling like a louse.

Green eyes blazed with fury. "It's none of your business what I do in my free time. Keep out of my things or I _will_ report you for theft."

Lister shuffled nervously on his feet as Rimmer sat down at the table. He felt like a right git, and still couldn’t say why he was so fascinated with Rimmer's life all of a sudden.

His eyes were drawn to movement: Rimmer had untied the ribbon and set his newly received envelope on top. Captivated and unnerved, he watched Rimmer's fingers twisting the ribbon to retie it, recalling the note that mentioned how skilled his fingers were.

He had to lick his suddenly dry lips and wondered if he was going round the bend.

=-=-=-=-=

Three weeks. Three smegging weeks and he was no closer to figuring out who Rimmer's mystery woman was. Being Zed shift leader, Rimmer was able to manipulate the rotation so they were never together, ensuring that Lister couldn't follow him around. He'd even put Lister on with his mates, so while no actual work was being done, Rimmer could do as he pleased and they would be none the wiser. Not that his mates cared.

"Dave, what do you care what the smeghead does? If he's getting laid, good on him. It's improved his outlook. He's only written me up ten times this month!" Selby proclaimed as he waved his hand, slopping lager out of his thermos.

Chen agreed from the floor, where he was presumably repairing the jammed Chunky bar selection key. "Yeah, Lister, he's almost being nice to us. Why do you want to ruin that?"

Petersen, his always-drunk, reliable friend, lifted his head from the trolley and slurred, "If'n he's leaving us alone, we should leave him alone. S'only fair."

"Come _on_ , guys, don't you think it's suspicious?" Lister tried to rile them up again. "If any of us got on with a girl for three weeks, we'd never shut up about it. _Everyone_ would know!"

"Maybe that's why he doesn't tell anyone," Chen mused as he stood and gave vending machine 88 a swift kick. He pressed the Chunky bar, and out slid the correct candy.

Lister was growing more frustrated with each passing day. When he'd get back to their quarters after shift, Rimmer was nearly always out. When he got up in the morning, it was to find Rimmer's bed not slept in at all, or a bleary-eyed Rimmer emerging from the shower, looking like he'd gotten no sleep. Those were _his_ looks; _his_ nights out. He couldn't take not knowing any more.

"Who is she?" He demanded as Rimmer strolled into their quarters at half past eleven that night.

"Who says it’s a 'she'?" Rimmer quipped without hesitation.

Lister didn't say a word the rest of the night, too shocked at the revelation that Rimmer might not be lying.

=-=-=-=-=

"You was joshing me, right?" Lister asked the next day, sitting down next to Rimmer at the table. It was a miracle he'd even been around, but Rimmer had been in their quarters when Lister had gotten back from lunch. He smiled in encouragement, trying to draw Rimmer into telling the truth. "You was just yanking me chain."

Rimmer continued to idly flick through his _Motoring Weekly_ magazine, though it didn't look like he was seeing it. He even sounded distracted as he answered, "That's a rather open-ended question, Lister. Care to narrow it down a smidge?"

Frustration began to niggle at him, and to his annoyance, he found himself hesitating. "When I asked you who 'she' was, you said –" Lister grew more flustered. "You implied that it wasn't – what did you mean by 'she'?" he finally spat out.

Rimmer slowly raised his head to look at him, blinked and began reciting, "She: a pronoun indicating the female half of the species, with large, milk-producing breasts for nursing their young and firm buttocks for…"

Aggravation pushed to the breaking point, Lister dug his fingers into the hat on his head and yelled, "You _know_ that's not what I meant, Rimmer!"

Rimmer went back to his magazine with a slight smirk. "I'm not a mind-reader, Lister. Get back to me when you learn a bit more of the English language."

He pushed his chair away from the table and stood up, wringing his hat between his hands, imagining it was Rimmer's head. "You are _the_ most annoying smeghead!" he ranted incoherently.

Rimmer casually flicked the page. "Good to know, Listy."

Lister froze. He stared. Rimmer turned another page, oblivious. Lister turned and strode out of the room, confused at the emotions bubbling up inside him.

He drank himself stupid, but he could still hear Rimmer calling him "Listy." Listy? Where'd he come up with that one? For as long as they'd known each other, he'd been "Lister," "Git," "Gimboid," "Miladdo," and even the occasional, "Bastard."

And he'd said it so casual, like Rimmer called him "Listy" all the time. He groaned and rested his forehead on the table. What the smeg was going on? And why was he obsessing about it? It was just a word. It wasn't even a word; it was a nickname. His anal-retentive, smeghead of a roommate called him by a nickname. So what? It didn't mean anything.

He pulled his hat down over his head, blocking out the world for the rest of the afternoon.

When the bartender called security to haul him back to his quarters, he broke into drunken, miserable laughter: Rimmer's bed was neatly done up and empty. Lister crawled into his bed and buried his face in the pillow. He refused to call what leaked from his eyes tears; his eyes were just watering from the sheer amount of alcohol he'd ingested. He didn't fall asleep so much as he fell unconscious, too exhausted and discouraged from thinking about Rimmer.

=-=-=-=-=

For dereliction of duty – a.k.a. the inability to perform duties due to drunken hangover the likes of which even Petersen had never seen – Lister was off rotation and pay for three days. Rimmer had kindly left a copy of the report taped to his forehead while he slept it off. Feeling, smelling and tasting like arse, Lister stumbled into the shower and scrubbed away the worst of it.

His mates were stuck on shift, and nothing appealed to him on ship's vid. Work wasn't exactly strenuous, but it broke up the endless days. Now he didn't even have that. He wasn't restricted to quarters, so he wandered the ship, trying to shake off the last of the draggy feeling of the hangover. Walking without a purpose left his mind to drift, and his thoughts turned once again to Rimmer. It was all he bloody well thought about – what Rimmer was doing, who he was doing it with, why Rimmer called him "Listy" and why he was so obsessed with finding answers.

It was a completely new feeling to be fixated on Rimmer. The man had seemed okay when they'd been introduced as roommates, but after a few weeks it was apparent that Rimmer didn't have the same social or people skills that Lister had. Since he'd found the letters, Rimmer had transformed. No longer shy and stuttering, Rimmer was more confident; more outgoing. And he wasn't half bad-looking, either, when he wasn't frowning and putting Lister on report.

Lister stopped dead in his tracks as he thought he heard Rimmer's voice. He shook his head with a rueful grimace. Was he so desperate that he was hearing thi– no, that _was_ Rimmer's nasal tone in the corridor ahead of him.

He crept along the wall to peer around the corner. Sure enough, his roommate was walking next to a shorter, blond man with a stocky build. They were chatting animatedly but Lister was too far away to make out any of the actual words. He was about to slink after them, wondering if this was the mysterious "J," when a noise startled him. Rimmer's head was tilted back and he appeared to be – laughing. How odd that he'd never heard Rimmer laugh before. It was rather pleasant, actually; deep with a hint of teasing naughtiness.

Then Rimmer half-turned and put his hand on the other man's arm to stop their forward momentum. Rimmer leaned in and spoke to him in a low voice, sending the blond into fits of hysterical laughter. Lister's stomach knotted as he watched Rimmer's expression light up at the other man's obvious enjoyment of his words. Since when was Rimmer funny? Lister had only gotten boring lectures on the importance of preserving Hammond organ music and how he should apply himself better. Why didn't he know this Rimmer? Why was the man so reticent around him, but opened up to this total stranger?

With a pang of jealousy, Lister watched the blond man smile up at Rimmer with a look he was all too familiar with. He knew attraction when he saw it, and this man was attracted to Rimmer. From the way Rimmer's mouth settled into a knowing little smile, it wasn’t the first time they'd flirted. As Rimmer's hand trailed down the blond's arm, Lister shivered as though he'd been the one touched. Even from halfway down the corridor, Lister could feel the tension between the two men and knew that he wouldn't be seeing Rimmer that night.

Lister turned and shuffled back to his quarters with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. He didn't have to wonder about Rimmer's mysterious lover anymore; he'd just met the man.

=-=-=-=

After returning from shore leave on Umbriel two months later, Rimmer changed. The first, immediate change was that Rimmer was in his own bed every night precisely at 9:15pm. Gone were the little smiles and wistful daydreaming moments. In their place were harsh words, more write-ups than the copy room had forms, anger, vitriol and depression.

Lister peeked into Rimmer's underwear drawer to confirm his suspicions: Rimmer's cache of carefully tied notes was gone. It was clear to Lister that he'd been dumped, probably on shore leave. Lister had watched Rimmer and Jacob smegging Farnsworth – the "J" in Rimmer's letters – leave the ship together, heading straight towards the block of nicer hotels. Now he was stuck with a choice; should he say something or keep his gob shut? It wasn't his place to ask what happened, as Rimmer didn't want him to know about Farnsworth in the first place. But he _did_ know about him, and Rimmer knew that he knew. And he couldn't stand to see Rimmer moping about.

He stared at Rimmer hunched over his revision table, watching the minutes tick by without a page being turned or a note taken.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Rimmer?" Lister braved asking.

He saw Rimmer's hand tighten in his hair as though he were caught out, then his carefully modulated voice said, "No."

Lister chewed on the end of his hair, wondering how far he could push Rimmer into talking about it. He'd been dumped by nearly every girl he'd ever cared about, and moping about for weeks on end might seem like a good idea, but it only made you more miserable. Besides, Rimmer was turning back into the git he'd known all along, losing the confidence and happiness that had changed him the past few months. He wanted that Rimmer back. "I noticed you've been a little down lately, is all. Wondered if there was anything I could do to help."

Stony silence met his decree and he'd about given up on an answer, when Rimmer's quiet voice stated, "There's nothing to be done, Lister." Then a deep sigh. "He dumped me."  

Startled at the confession, Lister could only gape at the back of Rimmer's head. He hadn't honestly expected Rimmer to tell him anything of what happened, least of all that he'd been dumped. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't know."

Rimmer turned around, his red-rimmed eyes not meeting Lister's, instead focusing on the far wall. "He passed his engineering exam. I didn't – again. Now that he's an officer, he decided he couldn't be seen with someone of such a low rank."

Smeg. Lister had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts he'd completely forgotten the exams were just before leave. "He dumped you because you didn't pass some smegging exam?" he asked in disbelief.

"That 'smegging exam' was everything to him," Rimmer snapped, his burst of ire immediately extinguished and he focused again on the wall. "When we met, I may have led him to believe that I was on my way up. Just the exam was in my way to becoming an officer."

Lister could practically see the disastrous path this had led Rimmer down, and he sighed in sympathy, "Oh, Rimmer."

Rimmer's gaze fell to his entwined fingers. "We were so alike. We both had ambitions to high ranks in the Space Corps. We wanted the same things. We talked about what it would be like to dine at the captain's table, how proud of us our parents would be that we made officer. When he asked me if I wanted to revise with him, I couldn't say yes fast enough. Finally, someone who was interested in me, who wanted to encourage me in my dreams."

Lister felt a pang in the vicinity of his heart. He'd not been the best of friends to Rimmer, though he had tried to include him in his plans. Regret started to gnaw at him for all the pranks and smeg he and his mates had done to Rimmer. His remorse didn't touch the depth of Rimmer's misery, though.

"One thing sort of led to another, and I ended up staying over later and later. The first time he kissed me, he told me he'd wanted to do that since the first moment he met me." Tears filled Rimmer's eyes. "I thought he meant it."

Lister managed to speak through the lump in his throat. "Rimmer, just because he's a twat doesn't mean he didn't like you. There's a lot to like, you know."

Rimmer didn't seem to hear him, lost in his memories. "He had a fantastic speaking voice. I was absolutely mesmerized by him. Very authoritative. He'd get that sort of low tone that rattles in your bones when he'd –" A shudder ripped through Rimmer and Lister felt an answering shiver along his arms, raising gooseflesh.

He may not have ever slept with a man, but Lister knew how powerful commanding tones could be in the bedroom. And Rimmer with his rank-and-file fixation would have been putty in Jacob's hands. Lister balled his hands into fists, feeling an overwhelming urge to punch one newly christened officer in the face.

Rimmer didn't notice his building anger. He didn't notice anything at all; instead focusing inward on his pain. "Shore leave was my idea. It was a surprise for passing the exam. I booked a suite for three days, and for three days we never left the bed. Room service, en suite bath; I went all out. I was so confident that I'd passed." Lister watched helplessly as Rimmer pulled back the tears that threatened to spill over, slowly putting his armor back into place. "I didn't know that Jacob had gotten the results early. As we were packing to leave, he told me he couldn't see me again. He said I would ruin his chances at further promotion."

Blinding rage caused Lister to stand up and yell, "That wanker! That absolute twonk! You don't treat someone you care about like that. I'll punch his lights out!"

Back behind his emotional protection once again, Rimmer merely shook his head. "I don't think he cared for me at all. Why else wait until after the weekend away to tell me we were through? He knew I'd failed the exam before we left the ship."

'That's worse, isn't it?" Lister shouted, pacing about their quarters. "He used you, Rimmer, like you were no better than –" he stopped, realizing what he was about to compare Rimmer to.

But Rimmer knew and finished it for him, his eyes dull and listless. "Like a whore, isn't that what you were going to say, Lister? I would agree with you, but I paid for the suite, not him." Rimmer muttered, seemingly to himself, "It's my own bloody fault. I know better than to trust people. Everyone lets me down. Everyone uses me then tosses me away. It's always the same."

Lister stopped pacing and knelt next to Rimmer. "Don't put your walls back up, Rimmer," he pleaded. "I liked you better when you was in love."

Rimmer barked out a miserable laugh to match a miserable attempt at a smile. "You think I was in love? You're daft. He was a nice bit of fun, but I wasn't in love with him."

Lister reached out and placed his hand on Rimmer's arm. "It's okay to admit it. Love doesn't make you weak. It makes you human."

Rimmer stared at the hand on his arm, but Lister didn't move it; he squeezed instead. "If it wasn't for Jacob, I never would have noticed this complete other side of you. You was funny, down-to-Earth and nice to be around. I heard you laugh for the first time with him. You never laughed around me, not like you did with him."

Rimmer frowned at him. "When did you hear us laughing?"

"I saw you together in the corridor once," Lister admitted. "I didn't intend to spy, but to see you so happy, so relaxed – it was like you was another person. I liked that person. I like you. Don't let him destroy the person you've become, Rimmer. I'd hate to lose him before I got a proper chance to get to know him."

Rimmer's eyes searched his, and he tried to convey what he felt through his stare alone.  "What are you saying, Lister?"

Lister took a deep breath. He hadn't planned it, but his heart was telling him it was the right thing to do. "Will you have dinner with me?"

=-=-=-=-=

Rimmer was not an easy man to win over. Granted, he'd just been dumped and was still raw from that, but Lister was not a man who gave up on something he wanted. And he wanted Rimmer.

He tried his usual methods: flowers, trinkets, offers of nights out on the town, dinners and lunches and even massages. Rimmer refused them all, but Lister could tell he was weakening. At least Rimmer had started to think about it before the customary, "No, Lister."

He thought of and immediately rejected love notes; he would not repeat another man's moves. He couldn't ask his mates, because he wasn't ready to deal with their teasing and taunting. They would take the piss something awful when they found out he was after Rimmer. He wanted to delay that confrontation as long as possible.

Deciding that the direct approach was best, and not something he'd ever tried, he walked up to Rimmer some two months after his first failed attempt and asked, "What will impress you enough to go out with me, Rimmer?"

Startled, Rimmer blinked up at him. "You're _asking_ me?" Rimmer asked, astonished.

"Yeah," he said as he spun the chair around and sat down. "If you don't like me, say so now and I'll stop harassing you. If you do like me, tell me what it is I could do to make you trust me."

Rimmer fiddled with the sheaf of papers on the table, color rising on his neck. "What if I don't know if I like you or not?"

Lister felt his heart crash into his boots, but tried to keep the disappointment off his face. "Then I'll give you time to figure it out. I just don't want to lose you back to your rules and regs, you know? You hide behind that smeg and no one gets a chance to see the real you. I got a glimpse of him, and he's someone I definitely want to get to know better."

Rimmer licked his lips and it was all Lister could do not to moan. "You and your friends have teased me since the day we met…" he began, then a frown appeared.

"Not since you started seeing Farnsworth," Lister confirmed, sensing Rimmer's confusion. "I told them to lay off you after shore leave, too. I didn't tell them why. They've started to like you, too, but not in the way I do."

Rimmer looked lost and confused. "They like me? But they think I'm a complete twat."

Lister gave Rimmer his best smile. "I told you, Rimmer; when you let your guard down, you're likable. It’s not just my friends, either. Others noticed the change in you. I saw quite a few women giving you the eye as you walked past, but you didn't even notice them."

Rimmer glared at him. "Now you're just putting me on."

"Rimmer." He placed his hand lightly on Rimmer's arm; not enough to hold him there, more to emphasize his point. "Love changed you. I'm sorry you couldn't see it, but others could. It made you more attractive."

Rimmer studied Lister's hand on his arm for a long time, then finally spoke with a raspy voice. "Would you care to play _RISK_ with me?"

The non sequitur nearly had his head spinning, but Lister was a lot smarter than most gave him credit for. Rimmer was offering him a chance to prove himself, and he leapt at the opportunity. "If you don’t mind showing me how to play."

That genuine smile curved Rimmer's lips and Lister's heart skipped a beat. He thought it was tantalizing when he'd seen it at a distance; directed right at him, it was devastating. "I'll give you the shortened rules to read over, then we can go over them after you've had a chance to study them."

Lister barely heard him. "Whatever you want, Rimmer," he agreed. He hadn't expected homework for his first date with Rimmer, but it somehow suited the man perfectly.

Four days into the game, and Lister was in danger of chewing off the ends of all his dreads. He thought he was a pretty smart guy, able to pick up on things easily enough, but this was smegging _hard_. He'd even taking to using a notebook to keep track of moves like Rimmer did, but it didn't help. He was down to two territories and he just _knew_ that Rimmer was going easy on him.

The only thing that made it worthwhile was spending time with Rimmer. Seeing him light up like he had when he was flirting with Farnsworth was worth the headaches and the constant gentle corrections and the general ass-handing Lister was currently undergoing.

When Rimmer took Argentina, Lister gave him a put-upon frown. "Rimmer, just put me out of me misery. I surrender." He toppled over his last army with a flick of his fingers, sending the pieces scattering.

Rimmer tutted at him, a hint of playfulness teasing at the corners of his mouth. "You can't surrender, Listy. I have to thoroughly thrash you."

At hearing the nickname, Lister's eyes closed briefly. Rimmer hadn't called him that for months, and there it was again, sending little jolts of pleasure through his body. "Consider me thrashed, then," he said, resting his chin on his stacked fists, looking up at Rimmer coyly.

Rimmer pursed his lips and set the toppled figures back in place. "You're not getting out of this _that_ easily, miladdo. You said you'd play one game. We're nearly at the end."

Lister was torn; he wanted to continue to spend time alone with Rimmer, but he couldn't keep up with the minutia of the game. When Rimmer won, which would probably be in two moves or less, what happened then? With a sickening feeling in his gut, Lister played his remaining card and attacked Rimmer's army, which was a blatant suicide mission. It was almost worth it to see happiness light Rimmer's expression; the life and excitement twinkling in his eyes.

"It was a valiant effort, Listy," Rimmer placated him as he started putting the pieces back in their slots.

"Don't give me that patronizing smeg," Lister admonished with a friendly grin. " _I_ know that _you_ know that _I_ know that you went easy on me."

Rimmer paused in sorting the cards, fixing him with a heated look. "Only because it was your first time."

Lister's heart rate sped up at the implication. "Do I get a consolation prize?"

Rimmer pretended to think about it as he folded the board and placed the lid over the box, pushing the game out of the way. "That was a pretty dismal showing, Lister. I don't know that you deserve any sort of prize." His eyes sparkled. "What about a rematch in, say, two days?"

Lister's heart sank. He was pretty sure he wouldn't improve even if he studied the greatest generals of all time, because Rimmer had their strategies memorized and used them with deadly precision. "I don't know, Rimmer. I love spending time with you, but…this isn't really my thing. Strategy and military stuff is more you than me." He chewed on his hair, dreading what his honesty would do to the fragile beginnings of – whatever they were headed toward.

Rimmer regarded him steadily, but Lister couldn't read him. "Is that your honest opinion?" he asked coolly.

Sure he'd just blown the only chance he'd have with Rimmer, he closed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I can't pretend to like something I don’t. I'm sor –" His apology was cut off by lips covering his. His eyes flew open but all he could see were blurry shapes. His eyes closed again as long fingers – fingers he'd dreamed about – stroked once along his cheeks then cupped his face, holding him steady as Rimmer plundered his mouth.

Shaking and horny and panting for breath, he stared in disbelief at Rimmer, who looked really, really good disheveled. Hair a mess, shirt rumpled, tie askew. Had he done that?

"Smeg, Rimmer," he gasped. "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining," he tacked on quickly.

Rimmer's chest was rising and falling rapidly. "You were honest with me. You didn't lie about liking the game just because I did. You won't lie to me?"

It seemed a question, so Lister answered it. "I won't lie to you if I can help it, Rimmer."

He wasn’t sure if Rimmer believed him, as the wildness left his eyes to be replaced with worried seriousness. "See that you don't."

=-=-=-=-=

Despite making the first major move, Rimmer was skittish about things progressing too quickly. Lister had taken a cold shower after each of their long snog sessions – sometimes allowing Rimmer to go first – but he didn't push. The fact that Rimmer was willing to act like a teenager in the back seat of his parents' car gave Lister immense satisfaction. He was one of a very select few who got to see this side of Arnold and he cherished it. He especially cherished it when Arnold got overzealous and slipped a hand down his pants, giving his arse a squeeze.

Rimmer's bunk was the easiest to get to, so they ended up stretched across it the most, hands stroking skin and mouths busy tasting flesh. It was technically their fifth week of dating, and to Lister, it felt like his skin was about to catch fire.

"Arnold," he whined as Rimmer sucked at his neck. His head was tilted back as far as he could make it, but Rimmer was always careful about where he left his marks – low on his neck so he could hide them under his shirt or jacket. He wasn't always so careful with Arnold's skin, but Rimmer hardly ever complained. At least not after Lister apologized with murmurs and touches and soft, gentle kisses. Ordinarily he wasn't this sweet, even with the women he dated, but something about Arnold told him to take care, that he could easily break the man without much thought.

Right now, though, he wasn't feeling very gentle or sweet. His hips were rolling up into Arnold's, seeking a desperate release from the arousal they'd been cultivating most of the night. Combined with the simmering desire of the past few days, it was a miracle Lister didn't just spontaneously combust from the pressure. "Please, Arnie," he begged as he scratched his nails along Rimmer's undershirt-covered shoulders. His hands quickly dove underneath the shirt, sliding along the smooth flesh and flexing muscles as Arnold moved back up to tease at his lips.

He stroked along Rimmer's side, moving his hand between them to rub at Arnold's stomach. Before he could move, Arnold's hips ground down, trapping his hand between them. "Listy – please," Arnold gasped, his irises nearly swallowed by desire. "Touch me."

Before he could tell Arnold to ease up on his hand, he was shifted until he was on top of Rimmer, their legs tangled and their hips nestled together. Lister had a million thoughts at once – their flies might get stuck together if he wasn't careful, how best to get their pants down, how did he want Rimmer for their first time, did he want to taste him or just stroke him off, Arnold's expression was one of near desperation and he looked smegging good like that, would he be able to finish Arnold off before he came himself, did any of it smegging matter when he had Arnold beneath him, begging him to get him off.

Deciding the last was the most important, he dove for Arnold's mouth as he shoved his pants just below his arse, then helped Arnold arch up to get his pants down his thighs. No more finesse now, just raw need, he shoved Arnold's t-shirt up to his neck and licked and bit at his chest, something he'd been dying to do. Hands were pulling at his hair, trying to push him downward, but he would not be distracted from the tantalizing skin beneath his mouth. He savored every lick, every nip, until the flesh was actually trembling beneath him. "David," Arnold groaned, and Lister nearly came just from the sound of his name being called so passionately.

Rimmer's reward was a kiss and a lick to the head of his bobbing erection. Lister grasped the base in his hand, not as thick as his own but longer, and licked his lips. He gathered enough spit and set to work making Arnold scream.

What bounced lazily through his mind afterwards, as he lie atop Rimmer trying to catch his breath, was how noisy Arnold was. No one who met Arnold Rimmer would suspect that his uptight self would be a writhing, sensual hedonist in bed. Grunts and pleas and choked-off cries had accompanied nearly every touch and lick, and Lister had committed each one to memory.

He hadn't thought of his own erection while focused on Arnold's, but now long fingers wrapped around the neglected bit of flesh and Lister cried out. "Smeg," he gasped as his neck was worked over with teeth and tongue.

Arnold's grip was firm and he set a pace intended to get Lister off quickly. "Come on, Listy," was purred in his ear and he bucked wildly, his climax almost painful as he came with a hoarse shout.

As he lay gasping for breath, his skin slick with sweat, he heard himself murmur, "Smeg, I love you." He knew it was the wrong thing to say as Arnold stiffened beside him, then he was alone as Arnold rolled out of bed.

"Arnold, please come back to bed. I didn't mean to blurt it out like that," he said, though his heart was in turmoil. He'd meant it, but he hadn’t meant to say it so soon. Smeg, he was so stupid. Even worse than saying it, he'd said it after sex – when almost nothing you said could be held against you as your brain had leaked out the end of your dick.

Arnold had pulled up his pants and tugged his t-shirt back down, though he was hardly presentable. He looked well-shagged, and it was a smegging incredible look on him. Lister stumbled out of bed, hiking his pants up as he came up behind Arnold. "I may have said it at the wrong time, but it's what I feel. It's been growing for awhile, and to see you lose control like that, for me, I just lost me head. I won't apologize for saying it, or for feeling it. I do love you."

Arnold's head immediately started shaking in the negative. "You're just saying that because of your sex-addled brain. You'll regret it in the morning."

Lister lightly touched Rimmer's shoulder. "Arnold, it _is_ morning, and I still love you."

Rimmer's head snapped to the side, toward the clock that read 4:43am. His head shook again. "Doesn't matter. You can keep your goited declarations of love. I don't need them." Arnold turned to him, and Lister felt his heart ache at the distance that had replaced the wonder of a few minutes ago in his gaze. "If you still want to have sex, I'll accept that. But don't ever tell me you love me again."

Feeling anger start to well up, he snapped, "Is it okay if I feel it, as long as you don't know about it?"

Rimmer glared at him. "Think what you like; I can't stop you, so long as you keep it to yourself."

His anger dissipated as quickly as it had formed, leaving behind a gut-wrenching sadness. "Do you even like me, Rimmer? Or am I just the rebound sap to get you over Jacob?"

Rimmer's eyes flashed in anger and he hissed, "Don't _ever_ say his name again." He paused and looked away, begrudgingly admitting, "I don't dislike you."

Encouraged by Rimmer's attempt to avoid actually saying that he liked him, Lister smiled. "Then let's start back there, yeah?" He reached out and hooked one of Rimmer's fingers with his own, slowly drawing their hands together. "I like you. You like me. We can share a bed, or not; it doesn't matter to me. If you want to go back to dating and kissing, we can do that, too." He stepped closer, and he could feel the heat emanating from Arnold at his closeness. "Just don't shut me out, yeah? It took too long to get inside. Don't make me start all over again, pestering you with flowers and hearts and all that smeg."

The corner of Arnold's mouth twitched; was that an attempt to smother a smile? Lister jumped on the opening. "I could compose a song about your eyes or your hair or your arse. I could drop to my knee at lunch and recite you poetry. Hell, I'll even read you the back of a cereal box at the top of me lungs if you just promise to keep talking to me."

Lister's heart soared as Rimmer squeezed his hand and said with mock severity, "Anything but playing that guitar, Dave."

Lister jerked his head toward the bunks. "Let's have a lie-in and talk in the morning. We can sleep in my bunk." Lister watched Rimmer eye the lower bunk, knowing the sheets would be unfit for sleeping on. "Scout's honor; no funny business."

"Were you actually ever a Scout?" Rimmer asked with narrowed eyes.

"No," Lister admitted, "But that doesn't make the pledge any less sincere." He kept his gaze locked on Rimmer's, trying to convey how serious he was. He didn't want anything from Arnold, other than a warm body to sleep next to.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the walls started to drop again and Arnold nodded stiffly. "You go up first. I can't sleep pressed against the wall."

Lister shifted uneasily on his feet. "Eh, I need to, um –" he darted a glance at the shower, then down at his sodden pants. "Clean up."

A flush started along Rimmer's neck. "Yes, excellent. You go do that. I'll – strip the sheets on my bunk."

At Lister's startled gaze, Arnold's expression softened. "Just to toss in the laundry. It'll be nice to sleep next to someone."

Lister barely restrained himself from blowing out a relieved sigh. "Be right back, Arnold." Lister took the fastest shower of his life, barely drying himself off before rushing back out into the main room.

Rimmer was just changing into his pyjama top, having already slipped into the pants. Slightly disappointed but not overly surprised, Lister pulled on a mostly clean t-shirt and fresh shorts, then climbed into his bunk. Nervously, he waited for Arnold to join him. When Arnold fussed about with something on the table, stalling for time, Lister called to him softly, "Rimmer, it's 5am, it's our day off, and I, for one, would like to get some sleep. Come to bed."

He watched Rimmer step onto the ladder, looking a bit sheepish. Lister had pressed his back against the wall, but it was still a tight fit with Rimmer's longer legs. Lister's hand hovered over Rimmer's hip, wanting to settle over the curve that looked like it would fit it perfectly. "Is it okay if I put my hand on your hip?" he asked nervously.

He thought he'd be rejected outright, but Arnold was quiet a moment, then murmured, "I'd like that."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Lister pressed his palm on the jut of Rimmer's hipbone, flexing his fingers into the flesh beneath. "Night, Arnold," he whispered.

The echoed, "Good night, Listy," sent him to sleep with a smile on his lips.

=-=-=-=-=

Lister watched his lover chew on his fingernail nervously. "Arnold, pacing won't make the news come any faster."

Rimmer stopped and turned at the wall. "It helps me relax," he said distractedly.

Lister sprawled in his chair, admiring the curve of Arnold's ass as he walked away from him. "Arnie, if you want to relax, I got a much more enjoyable way to do it." When Rimmer turned to glare at him, he waggled his eyebrows.

"Oh, shut it," Rimmer spluttered, though the distraction did get him to settle down. He rested his elbows on the table and his leg started jiggling.

Lister reached over and took one of Rimmer's hands, cradling it between both of his. "Easy, Rimmer. If you pass, you pass. If not, I promise I'll still love you."

His words had the calming effect he'd hoped for. "You're right, Listy. And I lo-"

Holly interrupted with the announcement, "The results for the astronavigation exam are now available. Will the candidates for the astronavigation exam please have their idents ready to receive their results."

Wide-eyed, Rimmer was up and out the door like a shot, causing the chair he'd been sitting on to wobble dangerously before settling on all four legs. With a sigh, Lister followed his lover to the computer outside their quarters. He was nervous for Rimmer, too, though he hid it well.

He'd helped Arnold revise for this exam for months, straining his patience and sanity when Rimmer would give up too easily. But, Rimmer had remained focused, coherent and conscious at the exam, and when Lister met him afterward, he didn't have the glazed, fearful look in his eyes anymore. Instead, Lister had gotten a kiss and words that emblazoned themselves on his heart: "No matter what happens, Listy, I love you."

Now, he watched nervously as the computer spat out an envelope. Rimmer's fingers trembled as he took it and tore it open. Lister gave him an encouraging smile before Rimmer unfolded the paper and scanned the results.

When Arnold didn't say anything for almost a minute, Lister prodded him. "Well?"

Arnold folded the paper, slid it back into the envelope, and bent to give him a loving kiss. "Sixty-eight percent."

Lister's grin stretched across his face. "That's fantastic, Arnold! Your best score yet."

He knew his lover very well, and despite Arnold's calm exterior, he could see the disappointment in his eyes. "It's still not passing, though."

"Hey." Lister drew him around the corner and delved deep into his lover's mouth, pressing him against the wall with his body. When he pulled away, Arnold's gaze was unfocused and he was licking his lips hungrily. "I've got something to show you."

"Here?" Rimmer squeaked, his eyes darting around the corridor.

Lister chuckled and pulled him away from the wall, walking backwards as he guided Rimmer toward the lift. "No, you wanker. It's been ready for over a week, but I wanted to surprise you when you got your exam results."

"But I didn’t pass," Arnold stuttered, frowning in confusion.

Lister shook his head. "Doesn't matter. The surprise is for both of us." They entered the lift and Lister selected the destination.

Rimmer's leg began jittering nervously. "Where are we going, Lister?"

He grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet. "You'll see." When that seemed to agitate Rimmer more, he sighed and pulled Arnold into his arms, kissing him lightly. "We're going to our new quarters. We was approved last week."

Arnold visibly relaxed. "No shore leave, then?"

Lister scoffed. "Why do we need a hotel? We've got a full size bed waiting for us to break it in." He hummed his approval as he felt Rimmer's hands cup his arse.

"A full size bed, you say?" Arnold asked with mocking disinterest. A raised eyebrow and a twinkle in his eye belied his excitement.

"Yeah, full size." He repeated with a thrust of his hips and a lascivious wink.

"You could spoil a guy with all this attention, Mr. Lister," Arnold murmured as he licked his way inside Lister's mouth.

They were lost in each other, not feeling the lift stop or the doors open. They didn't notice the outside world until a throat cleared and a voice declared loudly, "That is not appropriate behavior in a public lift!"

Lister pulled back with an annoyed sigh. "Smeg off, why don't you?" he said before turning and looking up at a blond man he'd hoped never to see again. He sneered at the man who broke Rimmer's heart and gave a mock salute. "Oh, excuse me, _officer_. We'll get out of your way immediately, _officer_." He tugged on Rimmer's hand, pulling him aside and around Farnsworth.

Once they were past the man, Rimmer dug in his heels and hissed, "Lister, you can't speak to a superior officer that way!"

Lister raised his voice, seeing Farnsworth still standing by the lift doors. "I'll speak to him any smegging way I want. He's a twonk and he knows it. He gave up the best thing he ever _hoped_ to have in his entire, miserable existence, and for what? Some 'shiny pips'? That smeg don’t keep you warm at night. It can't love you back."

He expected Rimmer to still be mad at him, but to his surprise, Arnold's eyes were snapping with desire. "You really mean that, don't you?"

With a familiar rush of adrenaline, Lister pulled Arnold close and gave him a sloppy, open mouth kiss. He rested their foreheads together and whispered, "Let's get to our quarters and I'll show you how smegging much."

As Lister turned them away from the lift, he jumped as he felt Arnold's hand firmly close over his left buttock and remain there as they walked down the corridor.

As soon as Lister palmed open their new quarters, Rimmer pushed him inside, across the room to the bare mattress. Breathing heavily, Rimmer started removing his tie. "Clothes off now," he ordered brusquely, and Lister hurried to catch up.

Lister could only get a sense of how big the room was before his attention was focused solely on the man he loved, and how sturdy their new bed was.

=-=-=-=-=

They were rudely woken up by Holly.

"Dudes, you best get going. Hollister's got security looking for you."

Bleary-eyed, Lister tried to figure out where he was and where his clothes were. He was in unfamiliar quarters, but the frizzy hair tickling his nose brought it all back. He poked Arnold in the side and got a mumble of an answer. "Get up, Arn; we've got problems."

When he was sure Arnold was on his way to waking up, he started to locate their clothes.

"What's that, Hol?" he called as he shrugged into his shirt. "Why's security after us?"

Holly smirked at them. "Insubordination to a superior officer, indecent exposure and indecent displays of public affection."

"I'll kill that smegger," Lister growled as he hopped on one leg to get his other foot into his pants.

"Not if I get to him first," Arnold replied huffily as he darted around the room, trying to find his other sock.

Lister held out his hand, slowing Rimmer down. "Arnold, let me take the blame for this. It was my big, smegging mouth that got his attention."

"You are not alone in this, Dave," Arnold reminded him with a sharp jab to his ribs. "He saw both of us kissing in that lift, and he took offense to both of us. We'll go in together."

He stopped tying his bootlaces and stared up at Rimmer. "You're not the martyr type, Rimmer. Let me handle this."

Arnold turned to fix him with a glare. "I'm still your superior officer, Lister, and I say we're going in together. I will not let you take the fall for something we're both doing." Lister felt heat spread downward as Arnold glanced at his crotch. "And doing damn well." 

Holly's voice interrupted them. "Dave, I can't keep the sensors locked out of his area much longer."

Lister stood up. "We're ready, Hol." Together, he and Arnold took the lift to the drive room and marched into the Captain's office.

Rimmer gave his salute, and Lister offered a half-hearted one. "Sir. I understand you were looking for us, sir," Rimmer declared primly.

Hollister folded his hands on his desk and eyed both of them. "I've had some disturbing reports about you two. Public indecency and nudity, harassment of a superior officer, insubordination. Do you know what this pertains to?"

Lister was about to speak, but Rimmer beat him to it. "Yes, sir. My ex-lover, Farnsworth, caught myself and Lister engaging in a rather intense snog in the lift to our new quarters, sir."

Lister jumped in while Arnold was taking a breath. "Seeing as Farnsworth treated my lover like smeg when he had him, I took offense to his remarks toward us and called him a smegging twonk. Then I proceeded to kiss my lover senseless, sir."

Arnold's face was flushed with embarrassment, but the edges of his lips were twitching with the effort not to smile. "As we departed the lift area, I proceeded to place my hand on my lover's left buttock, indicating ownership and satisfaction, sir."

Hollister glared at them both in turn, but Lister could see merriment dancing in the captain's eyes. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all. "What about the charge of public nudity?"

"Never occurred, sir," Lister said, at the same time that Arnold remarked, "Aside from the possible flash of tongues, no indecent flesh was exposed, sir."

Hollister rubbed his chin thoughtfully, but Lister had a gut feeling they were about to be let go with a slap on the wrist, if even that.

"I have a dilemma, gentlemen. It's your word against an exemplary superior officer. While you may have been justified in your actions and words toward Farnsworth, I cannot let such insubordination go without punishment. It would ordinarily be a day's wages forfeit, but with your past records of insubordination, dereliction of duty, and other charges, I'm left with no choice. It gives me no pleasure to have to order this, but the minimum sentence I can give is one week in stasis, forfeiting the same in wages."

Lister's jaw dropped open in shock and he heard Rimmer's muted squawk beside him. It took but a second for his brain to come back online. "Sir, I take full responsibility. Rimmer had nothing to do with it. I forced him to kiss me and he said nothing directly to Farnsworth. It was all me."

Rimmer turned to him, indignation and fury causing him to shake. "You will _not_ take the blame for this, Lister. That smeghead used me and then dumped me when I couldn't further his career. He deserved every word and the next time that I see him, I'll say the same to his face!"

A new, smug voice piped up. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Rimmer froze, like a terrified rabbit in the sights of the wolf. Lister bristled and refused to turn around; he just might haul off and give the smegger the punch to the face he'd owed him for months.

Hollister barked, "Farnsworth, I told you to wait outside."

Just like that, Rimmer blinked and was back to his normal self. "Just a moment, sir." Lister watched with swelling pride as Arnold turned smartly and looked Farnsworth right in the eye. "I know you were with me only because you thought I could further your career. I'm not sorry for your disappointment. You used my affection for you against me, and that's a despicable thing to do. I hold the utmost respect for the office you serve and the rank you hold, but you, Jacob, are not deserving of my respect. You're not deserving of another thought, actually." Lister's grin nearly split his face as he watched Rimmer give Farnsworth a sneer from head to toe, then turned back to Hollister and said, "I apologize for the interruption, sir. You were saying, sir?"

Hollister's expression was unreadable as he ordered the flustered Farnsworth outside. Lister watched nervously as Hollister studied Rimmer. What was he looking for?

"Second Technician Rimmer." At his rank and name, Rimmer stood straighter. "Third Technician Lister." Lister didn’t straight up, but he did look Hollister in the eye. "You are hereby formally reprimanded for insubordination toward a superior officer. The charges of indecent exposure and public indecency are dropped due to lack of evidence. In addition to the reprimand, you are hereby sentenced to two days in stasis, forfeiting the same in wages. Dismissed."

"Permission to go into stasis right now, sir? In the same booth?" Rimmer asked in a small voice, startling both of them. Lister's head whipped around to stare at him; Arnold's confidence of a minute ago was gone.

" _No_ , Arnold," he snapped, not caring that he was in front of the captain. "Don't let him win."

Rimmer shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "He hasn't won. I've got you. But I'd rather get this over with, then get on with our lives." He turned to the captain and gave his salute. "Sir."

Hollister looked between them and shook his head sadly. "I'll order Todhunter to take you to stasis booth 4. It's the largest one we have and is capable of sustaining three people." He leaned forward. "You're sure you want to do this now? You don't want to appeal the charges?"

Rimmer sniffed, though not from tears. His back was ramrod straight and he peered down his nose at the captain. "I'd rather not see him again, sir. I have a life I'd like to get back to as soon as possible."

Hollister looked to Lister. He shrugged; it was Rimmer's call, as he was the wronged party. "Very well. Wait outside." Hollister raised his voice. "Farnsworth, get in here."

Rimmer turned smartly on his heel and Lister fell into step beside him, their hands clasped between them, forcing the waiting Farnsworth to walk around them.

They stood off to the side of the bustle of the drive room, but Lister could hear Hollister's raised voice berating Farnsworth for abuse of power and filing a false incident report. Lister couldn't make out any more, as Todhunter appeared to take them to the stasis booth.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, boys, but rules are rules. If we didn't have rules, we'd have anarchy."

Lister rolled his eyes but Rimmer didn't react at all. He began to worry about his lover as they trudged after Todhunter.

"Are you okay, Arnie?" he whispered.

Rimmer flashed him a half-hearted smile. "I'm a lot of trouble, aren't I? Bet you wished you'd left me to my misery."

Lister stopped dead in his tracks, spun Rimmer to him and kissed him soundly. "Never, ever think that again, Arnold. I smegging love you, and that's all there is to it. Clear?"

Rimmer's smile faltered, then solidified. "Clear."

Todhunter cleared his throat. "It's a small consolation, but you were on call for the next repair shift. I had to bump up A Shift to check over the drive plates in your place." He touched the panel on the wall. "In you go, boys. I'll see you in a few days."

Lister had never been in stasis before, but Rimmer told him he used to sneak down to the booths and steal back hours of his life. Rimmer didn't seem nervous, so he tried not to be, either. As the door closed, Lister grabbed hold of Rimmer's hand and squeezed, just before the light turned red.

The End


End file.
